Battle for a Soul

St. James Church, Medjugorje, March 22, 2012

This is the story of the battle for a soul that has changed my life. It is a heavenly personal battle of the love of Jesus and our Blessed Mother Mary that will never, never give up, and of the agony and passion with which they fight right now for every soul, and for all eternity.

My husband and I and some dear friends were at Eucharistic Adoration at St. James Church in Medjugorje. It was the last night of our pilgrimage to Medjugorje, where our Blessed Mother has been visiting visionaries daily since 1981. The entire church was packed; every pew and the aisles were filled with people sitting, kneeling and standing in every inch of space just to be in the sacred presence of Jesus.

We were standing at the back of the church in the center aisle, at the very last pew. I had a direct view of the monstrance that holds the sacred host. I also had a clear view of the statue of the Blessed Mother which is off to the right of the altar and of the small crucifix that was on the altar between the monstrance and the statue.

I had two rosaries with me. The first rosary was my Father’s, from his first communion. My Grandmother had given it to me years before, and I had brought it to Medjugorje with the intention of praying for him and his health, and giving it back to him upon our return. The second rosary I bought the first day of our trip. I had been holding these two rosaries and praying on them at every event and for every blessing we received the entire week.

A light shined on the monstrance and the sacred host. During Adoration, they sing songs and say prayers in the multiple languages of the pilgrims.

But almost immediately, for me, the crowd seemed to fall away. The sacred host began to glow and grow larger in my sight; even the monstrance fell away from my view. I had the need to pray directly to our Lord, Jesus with all my heart. It was a prayer I had heard only a time or two before:

Oh, my Jesus. Forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy.

At the time, I had no idea that this prayer was called the Fatima prayer; named so because it was given by our Blessed Mother to the visionaries at Fatima. All I knew was that I desperately needed to pray the prayer withl my very soul.

I first started praying the prayer on my rosary – every bead – with all my heart. My eyes on the Host, only the host. Faster and faster, more urgency, more emphasis. I can’t remember ever being so deep in prayer. Every bead faster, the same prayer, but more powerful with every breadth. Focused only on the Christ – critically important. If the sounds of the others’ prayers or a song came to me, I pushed them away. Only my prayer, only my Lord.

I glanced over to the statue of the Blessed Mother, but she urged me back to her Son – this is only a statue – look to the true Christ. The same thing with the crucifix. Look only to the Christ – the Host – the living presence of God. Not even the monstrance in my view. Pure white, pure Jesus. Mother Mary urging me directly to her Son. Tears streaming down my face.

When I finished the prayers on the beads of my rosary, I started praying the same prayer on the beads of my Father’s rosary. I don’t know how many times I said the prayer. Faster still, more urgent.

All of a sudden, I became aware that my prayer had changed. No longer was I praying the Fatima prayer, but I was now ‘talking’ directly to a soul. I was saying, “No, look one more time at Jesus’ eyes. See his endless love. See his endless mercy. Don’t choose hell! Look again! Look one more time! Look again, look at Jesus! Don’t choose hell! Look again!”

I was praying for a tortured soul standing on the brink – making the choice between heaven and hell. I don’t know who’s soul – it didn’t matter. The same words over and over, endless tears, agony. “Don’t choose hell! Look at His eyes! See His endless mercy, His endless love. Don’t look away! Don’t choose hell! Don’t choose hell!”

At some point, I became aware that I was speaking directly to Jesus – my eyes still fixed on the Body of Christ and begging him to save this tortured soul. “Dear Jesus, look again, one more time. Look into his eyes, don’t let him choose hell. Look again! Please, please Dear Jesus!!”

At the same time, begging, pleading to the troubled soul, “Look again. Look at His eyes, His endless love, His endless mercy. Don’t choose hell! Don’t choose hell! Don’t choose hell!”

A war for a soul. Any soul, this soul. A ‘knowing’ now came to me, that our Blessed Lord Jesus and our Blessed Mother fight this hard over this soul, over every soul! The fight is this hard, every time, because it is a fight for all time!

Suddenly I was begging Jesus, “No! Jesus you MUST save this soul! You MUST save ten souls, a hundred souls, a Million souls, a Billion souls” over and over. I think back now and can’t believe I would have the audacity to speak to our Lord this way, but at the time, it was the prayer that needed to be prayed and Jesus was with me.

I am not sure how long it all lasted – the tears, the pain, the agony over the soul – so much to bear. Then I realized I was back to the original prayer.

Oh, my Jesus. Forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy.

A seat opened up and my friend tried to lead me to the seat. At first I resisted, I didn’t want anything to break the connection with our Lord. But then I took the spot, kneeled and continued my prayer. The pain in my back still agonizing, paralyzing. An overwhelming sense of urgency to not let this soul go. Pleading, begging our Lord.

The tears came harder, faster. I felt a warm ‘hug’ cover my entire back. It was the end. They took my Lord away. The people were gone. I was sobbing. Spent. Empty. I don’t remember the people leaving, just my husbandhelping me up. They were turning off the lights, we had to go.

I didn’t think my legs could carry me even out of the church. We got out of the church and sat on the steps. I told my husband, “I can’t do this. I’m not strong enough. It’s too hard!” How do the visionaries do this day after day? So much burden, yet so much love!? He told me, “Pray.”

The warm ‘hug’ was not from a person, it would have been impossible given where and how I was kneeling, so it was a special blessing sent from our Lord.

So much has happened since that night in Medjugorje. Countless blessing that have come down like soft golden raindrops. They are warm and comforting – and the blessings are so happy and joyous – so happy that when they hit the ground, they bounce and make more blessings.

I don’t know the answer to what happened to that tortured soul. What confirms for me this was all real, is that I feel no desire, somewhat surprisingly to myself, to to know who the soul was or what happened to him or her. I am satisfied that I am not supposed to know. What I do know, and what we are all supposed to understand, is the intensity of the battle over EVERY soul, EVERY time. YOUR soul. Jesus and Blessed Mother fight this fight for EVERY soul, every time, for all time!

Prayer and the rosary are our most powerful weapons. For ourselves, for our loved ones. For everyone! We need to pray for one another. We need to prayer for the souls in most need of God’s mercy. We need to pray for the souls in purgatory. For the souls in this world and the next. We need to pray, pray, pray.

Submitted by Diane

Comments

One Comment on Battle for a Soul

John DeReu on
Sat, 30th Mar 2013 2:26 pm CST

Thank you, Diane.

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